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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260455">Dream of You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/Jtargaryen18'>Jtargaryen18 (snowqueen79)</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/snowqueen79'>snowqueen79</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dynamite &amp; Whiskey [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Defending Jacob (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantasy, Masturbation, Voyeurism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:40:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260455</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/Jtargaryen18, https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/snowqueen79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to Dynamite &amp; Whiskey</p><p>With no one to celebrate his latest courtroom victory, Andy is left to his own devices and he goes for a drive by your house. There are spoilers from the show/book here.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andy Barber/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dynamite &amp; Whiskey [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dream of You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>May 27, 2017</b>
</p><p>Andy Barber’s phone hummed in the pocket of his suit jacket. He plucked it out to see that he had a text from Laurie.</p><p>LB: How did it go?</p><p>Andy couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He’d proved Buster Parson’s innocence when everyone thought he wouldn’t be able to pull it off.</p><p>Well, <em>almost</em> everyone thought he would lose the case.</p><p>AB: We won! What are you doing later, beautiful?</p><p>Andy had finished gathering his things and tucking them into his briefcase and was heading out of the courtroom before he got an answer. He was hoping that Laurie would be home, and they could celebrate. <em>Really celebrate</em> once Jacob went to bed.</p><p>Andy wasn’t entirely sure his teenage son ever really went to bed. He was such a night owl.</p><p>LB: I’ve got a fundraiser tonight. I’ll be home late. Will celebrate this weekend. Promise. 😉</p><p>AB: Sounds good.</p><p>He was on his own for the night.</p><p>Andy waited patiently for everything to be finalized so he could walk out with his client. Buster Parsons approached him in his simple suit, looking more relaxed than he had in the entire time he’d known the man.</p><p>“You ready?” Andy asked him, briefcase in hand.</p><p>“I am,” the man said humbly. “Thank you, Andy, for everything.”</p><p>“You’re welcome,” Andy told him.</p><p>For once, the smaller man had his head high, his shoulders back. He was a free man, found innocent of vehicular manslaughter. The reaction would be mixed outside. The lady who had died in the accident was well-loved in the town. But he thought Buster could handle it now.</p><p>“Let’s go face those reporters <em>now</em>,” Andy bid him. “One last time.”</p><p>Reporters.</p><p>
  <em>You would be there.</em>
</p><p>The swarm of them were there with their mics and cameramen, moving closer as Buster Parsons walked just ahead of him down the stone stairs. He paused to comment now that he could.</p><p>And there you were.</p><p>The subtle scent of roses and jasmine reached him as you drew closer. Your lips were a soft rose, a shade darker than the silky blouse you wore. As always, your blouse offered just a hint of the gentle curves it concealed. Your skirt was tight, smoothing over full hips and supple thighs, ending modestly below your knees. The pumps were elegant heels making your legs look a mile long.</p><p>“Mr. Barber?” You smiled at him, those candied lips shining below big, luminous eyes. And those eyes took him in like he was an honest-to-God hero, all admiration and awe.</p><p>It went straight to his head like it always did. <em>You were beautiful.</em> What man wouldn’t feel that way?</p><p>“Mr. Barber?” you repeated.</p><p><em>Shit</em>. <em>Pay attention.</em></p><p>“Are you happy with the exoneration of Mr. Parsons?” you asked him, moving closer. Your arm pressed against his, soft fire.</p><p>
  <em>Get a hold of yourself. You’re a married man.</em>
</p><p>Andy answered your questions with his usual spiel. Justice prevailed… Mr. Parsons now could move on with his life… Hell, he could have said anything. He was really just getting an eyeful of <em>you</em>. The way the sun shone off the soft curls of your hair, the way your gaze moved over him with such…</p><p>Longing?</p><p>
  <em>Was he imagining this?</em>
</p><p>Fuck, he needed to get a hold of himself. He had a wife, a son.</p><p>Thanking you for your questions, Andy moved reluctantly down the stairs, fielding other questions as he followed Parsons to his waiting car. They shook hands before he watched his client being driven away. A free man.</p><p>As he walked around the courthouse to the parking lot and climbed into his Audi, he contemplated those words. <em>Free man</em>.</p><p>Andy Barber <em>was</em> a free man but in so many ways, he really wasn’t.</p><p>He was a district attorney in Newton, but he had a father in prison for life for rape and murder. He had managed to keep it a secret to this point in his life. Even from his family. The dark secret was just one of the cages that held him.</p><p>He was a husband and father and he did all the things that came along with <em>that</em> role. He had a handsome son who got good grades and made him proud. He took Jacob fishing and they did family movie nights and trips out for dinner at local restaurants. He helped Jacob with homework and went to all of his conferences and ceremonies at school.</p><p>Andy had a beautiful wife. Laurie was lovely and intelligent. She made a real difference in the lives of disadvantaged kids and she was a good wife and mother. They did double dates with her friends. He did the honey-do lists. It seemed the longer they were married, the busier they both became. He didn’t mind watching Jacob while her responsibilities grew. Sometimes sex was a rare occurrence. When it happened? It was good, intimate.</p><p>Andy had a good life and he was satisfied.</p><p>But sometimes that opulence, his family, the money, and all his belongings? Just felt like another cage.</p><p>Scrubbing a hand down his face as he sat behind the wheel of his Audi, Andy shook his head at himself.</p><p>If he was so happy, why was he sitting in the car, hard as a rock and thinking about a woman who wasn’t his wife?</p><p>Oh, Andy knew it was just a simple infatuation on your part. That’s all it <em>could</em> be. You were younger but not that much younger than him. You knew he was married. You had to know he had a family.</p><p>And you didn’t act on it. You didn’t approach him outside the parameters of your job as a reporter. You weren’t acting inappropriately.</p><p>
  <em>Not that anyone could prove…</em>
</p><p>But the intent felt like a tangible thing.</p><p>Your eyes said so much. And your stories? Your coverage of his cases? Always so flattering. You always emphasized his title. You always painted him in a positive light, highlighting his victories in court most of all. Laurie loved your articles, loved how her husband was represented as a hero in Newton. She’d share them with her friends over wine at their book club meetings.</p><p>She thought nothing of the fact that he kept each one, cutting each out of the paper and keeping them in a photo album in his study. All your articles about him…</p><p>When he reached his house, he found Jacob upstairs playing video games. He changed clothes, made them supper. When Laurie wasn’t there for dinner, which happened more often now, Jacob ended up on his phone and Andy read the paper or his own phone. He wasn’t proud of it.</p><p>The teen-parent separation stage was hitting early. Jacob would talk to him sometimes, but conversations were short, awkward.</p><p>Jacob was already back upstairs while he did the dishes, staring out the window the entire time.</p><p>
  <em>Thinking about you…</em>
</p><p>Andy didn’t even think his decision to go on a drive was all that conscious. He tapped on Jacob’s door and told him he was going to the store. He’d be back.</p><p>It was night but not too late and it didn’t take long to reach your neighborhood. You had a cute house in a nice subdivision. It had been freshly painted when you moved in and he had to laugh because you often let the lawn go. Busy chasing those stories, he supposed.</p><p>
  <em>Busy chasing him…</em>
</p><p>The middle school was in walking distance from your house, the school’s property starting on the other side of your chain-linked fence in the back. There was a little league game going on and cars were parked along your fence, parents watching their kids play at the baseball field behind the school. Jacob used to play there.</p><p>He found a space right at the corner of your fence away from the lights and shut the engine off. Yeah, it was creepy, but there he saw watching your house in the dark cabin of his car.</p><p>Every room of your house was lit up and after a few minutes, he finally saw your silhouette moving into a corner room that was likely your bedroom.</p><p>Simple sheer drapes hung over that window and he watched with his heart racing as you pulled one panel back and stood in the window, looking out. He knew you couldn’t see him there and he liked being able to just look at you in your pink robe, a glass of what he thought must have been whiskey in your hand.</p><p>Were you lonely too tonight?</p><p>Were you thinking of <em>him</em>?</p><p>Andy just watched you, not immediately aware that he’d slid his hand over his erection as he did. When he noticed, he threw off his seatbelt and got comfortable.</p><p>Could you see the game from there? You must have because you leaned in the window, taking sips of your drink. </p><p>He understood. He often relied on a good drink himself, burning its way into his stomach, burning its way into his head and chasing down the vanities and insecurities that preyed on his mind.</p><p>What were <em>you</em> chasing away?</p><p>When you disappeared from the window, Andy plucked open his jeans and pulled himself out. Oh, he’d like to hop over the fence and go look in your window, but it would be his luck he’d get caught.</p><p>So he went with his imagination instead. He worked himself in smooth strokes as he imagined you going to bed. That you turned the lights out as he watched just enhanced his fantasy. He kept his touch light until your bedroom light went out.</p><p>You’d pull off that robe and what was underneath he wondered? In his mind, you were bare beneath it, all lush curves and smooth skin chilled by the cool comforter when you climbed on the bed.</p><p>Maybe you were thinking about him too, touching yourself. Would you run your hands over those full, beautiful breasts and imagine they were <em>his</em> hands? Would you tease your nipples until they hurt, until that slight edge of pain made that craving deep inside you worse?</p><p>He imagined your hands would slide down your body, down where you were wet and wanting. Did you shave? Were the petals of your sex bare and swollen?</p><p>You’d spread your legs, getting both hands involved. One hand would tease your clit first with gentle fingers.</p><p>Softly because that’s how he’d touch you, the lightest strokes until you were writhing beneath him. The rich scent that was just <em>you</em> would be stronger with all that warmth, would fill his senses. Andy just knew your intimate scent would be intoxicating.</p><p>Once your thighs were clamping around his fingers and you were purring for him like a kitten, he’d use a firmer touch. He’d tease you, bringing you so close to the edge before stopping. He’d want you breathless, pleading with him for more. You’d grab for him, any part of him you could reach. And he wanted your hands on him.</p><p>But he wouldn’t let you come. <em>No.</em> Not yet.</p><p>Andy would get his mouth on your first, savor you like the sweetest fruit. Your hands would twist in his hair, oh you’d make it hurt, while he teased the little pearl of your pleasure with his tongue. Andy would take his time, learn what drove you fucking crazy and use it against you while you whimpered and struggled above him. By the time he got his fingers in you, you’d be filling the room with desperate cries. By the time he found your sweet spot, you’d be weeping on his face, desperate for the release that only he could grant you.</p><p>Andy would let you come then. He’d stay at you with his hands and mouth until you thought you’d blow apart, until you were screaming as pleasure leveled you. He’d push you, drag it out as long as he could until you were trembling and dazed.</p><p>It would be the perfect time to push inside you, to fill you as he’d always wanted to. He could just imagine what the slick heat of your channel would feel like, so tight around him. He could just feel your soft little body beneath him because he wanted you under him. He wanted you clinging to him like a vine.</p><p>Andy could wait until you’d recovered, he could move slowly, warm you up more. Once you’d fully come back to him, he’d get his hands in your hair as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He’d taste your lips that you’d painted in liquor, taking your cries and pleas into his mouth. He wanted to get drunk off them. He’d tease your neck and ears with his lips and tongue while he started literally fucking you into the mattress. By then you’d be a silken vice around his cock, the deadly combination of your scent, heat, and craving something he couldn’t resist for long.</p><p>What would his name sound like as a desperate sob on your lips? How would your nails feel carving lines down his back as he drove his cock into you over and over again?</p><p>Thick ropes of come shot up from his cock as he cried out in the interior of his car, working himself fast and hard as the last vestiges of his fantasy slipped away like the best dream. His breathing was harsh, the windows of his car starting to fog.</p><p>“Jesus,” he muttered to himself as he took in the mess he made and tried to get his heart to slow down.</p><p>He hadn’t acted any better than a horny teenage boy.</p><p>Shuffling around, he lucked out and found some napkins in the glove box of the car and used those to get himself cleaned up. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel ashamed as he tucked himself back in, straightened his clothes, and put his seatbelt back on.</p><p>Andy took one last long look at your bedroom window.</p><p>It had been the hardest he’d come in months. The release had left him feeling boneless, complete. <em>Happy.</em></p><p>Andy started the car, driving off into the night. He’d hit the store before he returned home.</p><p>Blowing out a sigh, he whispered goodnight to you.</p>
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